


The Mudblood and the Mute

by NostalgicAboutJily (I_Might_Be_Okay_Someday)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, jily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Might_Be_Okay_Someday/pseuds/NostalgicAboutJily
Summary: What if, in an alternate universe, James Potter was mute? How would his disability affect his relationships with people and the way they saw him? What if someone thought he was faking it, seeking pity and attention? What then?





	1. Chapter One

James sucked in a rattling breath. His letter was supposed to have come three days ago. Letters didn’t just get lost like that. He couldn’t be a squib. He’d shown signs of magic, right? Maybe they’d decided that he wouldn’t be able to go? He shook his head. There was no use in worrying about it. His letter would come. He was sure of it.

 

He pushed himself up off of the ground, the dewy grass leaving a sticky residue on the palms of his hands. James wiped them on his pants and headed inside.

 

 _Mum,_ he signed when he reached the lounge where she was sitting, attempting to knit, _has my letter come yet?_

 

“No, not yet sweetie. I’m sure it’ll be here soon,” she reassured him.

 

 _But it’s so late! I’m worried. What if I’m not –_ he stopped, unwilling to finish the sentence.

 

“If you don’t get your letter then I’ll personally march into Professor Dumbledore’s office and give him a piece of what’s coming to him. Maybe your father’ll be back from his mission in time to join me, too.”

 

 _I don’t like it when you and Dad go on missions._ James’ lower lip trembled slightly, _I keep thinking that you’ll never come back._

 

“Aww, James. Don’t think like that. Your father and I are perfectly capable,”

 

 _But so are they._ James replied.

 

“Look. How many times have we been out on missions?”

 

_Lots._

 

“Uh huh, and how many times have we come back to you after?”

 

James turned a light shade of pink.

 

“See? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” she reached out and grabbed his arms, dragging him forwards into a hug. She was attempting to smother James in kisses (an attempt that was failing almost as badly as her knitting) when a small elf entered the room.

 

“Tammy is telling Mistress Mia and Master James that breakfast is ready.”

 

James took this opportunity to wiggle out of his mother’s arms. He stuck his tongue out at her and ran past the elf, into the dining room. Euphemia was right behind him. She caught her son around the middle and pressed the wet kisses onto his head. He wiped the kisses off.

 

 _Gross._ he signed at her. He sat down and piled his plate high with food, signing a quick thank you to the elf still standing in the doorway.

 

An owl tumbled in through the window about halfway through breakfast. Euphemia unfastened the letter.

 

James looked at her curiously. _Is it my letter?_

 

“No.” Euphemia shook her head, “It’s from the Ministry,”

 

 _Oh._ James’ face fell. _What’s wrong?_

 

He stood up and moved around the table so that he could read the letter too. Euphemia shook open the letter, scanning it through.

 

“Oh,” she said softly, once she had finished reading the letter, “Oh. I’m so sorry, James.”

 

 _You’re leaving me alone again?_ He signed, devastated, _Already? You only got back four days ago!_

 

“I know, baby. I hate leaving you alone like this. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.”

 

_Why can’t somebody else go?_

 

“You know why. We’re already short-staffed, James. We’ve lost lots of Aurors already and with You-Know-Who on the rise we can’t afford to be idle. I’m surprised it took this long before I was called back in, really.”

 

Euphemia stood up from her chair.

 

 _Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone again._ He signed frantically. _Please._

 

“You know I can’t stay, James,” she said softly, pressing a light kiss to her son’s forehead, “war waits for no one.”

 

She ruffled his hair lightly and left the room, her half eaten plate of food still sitting on the table.

 

Euphemia flooed off of the property after a hasty goodbye. James stood, staring at the empty fireplace long after she’d disappeared through it. He hardly noticed as a second owl flew through the window, the letter he’d been anticipating for weeks attached to its leg.

 

James didn’t acknowledge the owl’s presence until it flew onto his shoulder, nipping his ear hard. He untied the letter from the owl’s leg and allowed it to fly off.

 

He turned his gaze back to the fireplace for a moment, willing his mother to return. He dumped himself down in the nearest armchair and ripped the letter open, not caring to preserve the yellowing parchment of the envelope or the slanting green letters spilling across it.

 

Receiving his letter was supposed to be a happy moment, but he’d always imagined that he would have done it while his parents were there too. He imagined how their faces would have lit up with excitement to know that their son was going to Hogwarts, despite the fact that they’d never doubted that he’d get in in the first place. He imagined his father clapping him on the back and telling him that he’d known it all along and his mother hugging him tight, telling him how proud she was. The thought brought a shadow of a smile back onto his face.

 

It took him a few minutes to find one of the house-elves.

 

“What can Hetty do for Master James?” asked the elf, putting down the rag it was using to dust one of the mahogany bookshelves.

 

James showed Hetty the letter.

 

“Is both Master Monty and Mistress Mia gone again?” said Hetty, not unkindly.

 

James nodded. _Can you help me write a reply, please?_ _I don’t have a clue how._

 

“Yes, sir.” replied the elf, handing back the letter and starting off towards the study, looking back every few seconds to check that James was still following.

 

Half an hour later the reply was sent.

 

“When does Master James wish to buy his school things?” asked Hetty, before James could run off.

 

 _What’s the latest I can leave it?_ He signed.

 

“No later than three days before Master James leaves for school, sir.”

 

_Okay. We’ll wait and if Mum or Dad hasn’t come back by then I guess we’ll just have to go without them._

 

James thanked the elf and went outside, his bare feet collecting dew and a few loose bits of grass. He got his broom from the shed and flew a few times around the makeshift Quidditch pitch in the backyard. He swooped down and picked a battered Quaffle off the ground, flying back up before tossing it in the air, catching it easily each time, but Quidditch just wasn’t fun when you had no one to play it with.

 

He flew down, jumping off his broom before he reached the ground and wishing desperately that he had siblings so that he wouldn’t be so lonely. He wasn’t alone, of course. The Potters had three elves but they weren’t much fun to hang around with, preferring mundane activities such as cleaning, cooking and gardening to anything that James liked to do.

 

James knew why his parents left, and this certainly wasn’t the first time they’d done so, but he couldn’t help but wish that they had chosen some job other than being Aurors, or even not worked at all – they certainly had enough money to – but they had told him countless times that they simply would not be content to sit around all day – they wanted to do some good in the world, and James understood that, and he felt selfish for wanting them all to himself, but he just couldn’t stop himself from wishing.


	2. Chapter Two

It had been two weeks since James’ letter had arrived and still no sign of either of his parents. As usual, the house elves had tried to keep him occupied, but they really were quite dull company. He was sitting in the library with his feet up on the table and the chair leaning on its back two legs and reading a book about a world class Quidditch player whose broom malfunctioned in the middle of a match and took him on a journey around the world; _My Broomstick Took Me On A Holiday!_. The language in the book was quite simple, dull almost, and the plot seemed to have no real point, but he liked the book because of the memories it contained, not because of the quality of the story.

 

The familiar and yet still unsettling whoosh of the floo caught James off guard and the chair tipped over, just the way he had always been told it was going to if he continued to sit on it the way he did. He jumped up off the ground and sprinted down the stairs. His father stood in front of the fire, attempting to brush the soot off his clothes. His back was to the stairs.

 

“Jamie!” he said, when his son barrelled into him, hugging him tightly from behind, “How’s my favourite son been?” Mr Potter pulled out of James’ embrace and knelt down, looking him in the face.

 

James shrugged. Fleamont pulled him into another hug.

 

“Got your letter yet, champ?”

 

He nodded against Fleamont’s shoulder.

 

“I told you it would come. You’ve already gone to get your supplies?”

 

James shook his head no.

 

“Alright. We can do that tomorrow, for now I’ve got to get cleaned up.” He let go of his son, “We’ll meet back down here in half an hour, then we can talk about what we’ve been up to over dinner, eh?”

 

He stood up and ruffled James’ hair, then set off up the stairs, limping noticeably. James went to his own room and dug around in the junk on his desk for a moment before finding his Hogwarts letter. Then he sat reading the _Quidditch Daily_ magazine on the couch until his father got back downstairs.

 

“So,” said Fleamont conversationally when the two of them were comfortably sat at the table, digging into the pot roast the elves had prepared, “How’ve things been?”

 

James put down his knife and fork and replied, _Same as always, I guess. Mum left right before my letter arrived so I had to get Hetty to help send a reply._

 

Fleamont chuckled.

 

_How about you? I noticed that you were limping._

 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Jamie, it’s nothing. Me and a few others were checking out a suspected Death-Eater meeting spot. Turned out it was just the hiding spot for a bunch of Muggle criminals. I underestimated the Muggle weapons – guns, I believe they’re called – took a nasty shot to the leg but I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

 

_I don’t get that saying: ‘right as rain’. Isn’t rain supposed to symbolise sadness or something?_

 

Fleamont laughed, “It’s a Muggle saying, and they rarely make sense.”

 

James nodded slightly, picking up his fork and stabbed a bit of the roast, bringing it up to his lips and chewing slowly.

 

The two of them chatted aimlessly until they had finished eating. James jumped up and crossed over to one of the windows, pushing the patterned curtains aside and looking out for a moment before turning around, allowing the curtain to fall back into place.

 

 _It’s still light outside. Can we please go out and play some Quidditch? Please?_ He looked hopefully up at his father. Fleamont looked tired but nodded.

 

“Sure, let’s go.”

 

Neither of James’ parents were particularly good at flying, but they were significantly better than the house elves, so that counted for something.

 

They played without the bludgers or snitch, both of them simply trying to get the Quaffle through the other’s goals.

 

They finally re-entered the house two hours later, flushed, sweaty and grinning. James had won by forty-three shots, which was not unusual of him.

 

 

 

 

James woke up even earlier than normal, which was saying something, considering he was a morning person. When he couldn’t stay in bed any longer he got up and took a shower.

 

He had finished his shower and was all robed and ready to go, but it was still too early for anyone else to be awake so he decided to go on another search for secret passages around the house. He had already found two and he was fairly sure there were no more to be found, but it couldn’t hurt to look.

 

He was checking behind a rather annoyed portrait of a rather large man James figured he was somehow related to when he heard his father calling his name. He let the portrait drop back into place and made his way out to the front room.

 

“There you are!” said Fleamont, ruffling James’ hair, “I thought you’d run off and gotten lost somewhere.”

 

James shrugged, following Fleamont into the dining room. He was too excited to eat much.

 

 

 

Because it was so close to the start of the school year, most people had already finished their shopping and Diagon Alley was about as empty as it ever got.

 

They started out at Madam Malkins. James had a hard time standing still long enough for her to measure his robes, but he managed, just.

 

In Flourish and Blotts James spotted a boy about his age with scars criss-crossing across his face and arms being hurried along by his parents, looking as if he’d quite like to spend more time in the bookshop.

 

James stuck quite close by his father, not wanting to get lost, especially seeing as it would be near impossible for him to ask for help.

 

A tiny bell jingled as they entered Ollivanders and it wasn’t long before a pair of wide, surprisingly piercing eyes were looking him up and down.

 

“Ah yes, Potter, isn’t it?”

 

James nodded nervously, his hand twisting together in front of him.

 

“Now, which is your dominant hand?”

 

James lifted his left arm slowly. Ollivander nodded and disappeared into his shelves, muttering to himself. He came back moments later, his arms laden with long, slim boxes. He dumped them on the counter and picked one of the boxes up, opening it and carefully handing the wand to James, explaining the specifications and telling him to give it a swish. Nothing happened and that wand was quickly replaced by another and another.

 

After a while and a large stack of tried wands James was feeling discouraged, but Ollivander was grinning ear to ear, ducking into the shelves and coming back with yet more wands to try.

 

The new stack of wands Ollivander had brought out was dwindling and James was quickly losing hope.

 

“Don’t worry, champ. You’ll find one, even if you have to try out all the wands in the whole store.” said Fleamont as Ollivander disappeared into the shelves once more.

 

“Here, try this one: eleven inches, mahogany and dragon heartstring, slightly pliable.”

 

James swallowed and took the wand, he swished it, grinning at the trail of sparks trailing from the tip.

 

“Told you so,” Fleamont whispered, squeezing James’ shoulder.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hi! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I wanted to thank you for all of the support you’ve been blessing me with through all of your lovely comments. I also wanted to note, if you were confused, that I made up James’ wand core because the internet wouldn’t tell me what it was. Bye!


	3. Chapter Three

Fleamont left only a few days later, leaving James to wander the house once more, in search of something to do in the expanse of empty rooms.

 

Neither of James’ parents made it back in time to take him to Kings Cross, so he went with Hetty. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the elf, but he felt a pang as he looked around the station at all the families, mothers and fathers alike crying as they proudly farewelled their children, telling them not to forget to write and promising to send the things they’d forgotten. He had to remind himself that his parents weren’t there because they couldn’t be, not because they didn’t want to.

 

Tightening his grip on his trunk he clambered onto the train. Most of the compartments were empty because of doting parents wanting to fuss over their children for just a minute longer. He found a seat down at the end of the train, where he didn’t have to watch the families congregated on the platform.

 

It seemed like forever before people started crowding into the train.

 

A slightly pudgy boy with blonde hair and a pink face slid the door open slowly.

 

“Hi, I was … wondering if I could … sit … here?” he stumbled over his words.

 

James nodded, indicating the seat opposite his.

 

“Thanks. I’m Peter by the way, Peter Pettigrew.”

 

He held his hand out for James to shake. James’ mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. On one hand, he was almost certain Peter wouldn’t know sign language, on the other it would seem a bit silly if he immediately resorted to using quill and parchment, besides, his handwriting was abysmal.

 

 _Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m James Potter._ Signed James, not sure of what else to do.

 

Peter went even pinker, if that was possible, “I don’t know sign language – that _was_ sign language, wasn’t it?”

 

James nodded in response and dug out a scuffed roll of parchment and a self-inking quill from his bag. He unrolled a bit of the parchment and braced it on his leg, scribbling **No harm done, I’m James Potter by the way.**

 

“It’s nice to meet you James.” said Peter, grinning embarrassedly. James smiled back crookedly.

 

 **What house do you want to be in?** Wrote James, attempting to keep the conversation going.

 

“I don’t know, I reckon Gryffindor would be good, but I reckon I’m going to end up in Hufflepuff.” said Peter dismissively, “What about you?”

 

**Gryffindor, like my mum and dad.**

 

“Okay. Weren’t you alone on the platform though?”

 

James shook his head.

 

“Alright. Er … I don’t mean to sound rude but are you deaf or -?” he trailed off.

 

**Not deaf. I’m mute.**

 

“Were you born like that?”

 

 **No. It happened when I was little.** James hoped that Peter would change the topic.

 

“Oh.”

 

James took the silence that followed as an opportunity to pull his Transfiguration textbook out of his bag. He’d already read it a few times and – apart from flying – Transfiguration was the lesson he was most looking forward to. He flipped it to the page he’d been reading from and tuned out the rest of the world.

 

Half an hour before the train arrived a prefect came around telling everyone who had not yet gotten ready that they ought to hurry up. Peter went to the bathroom to get changed. James pulled the curtains shut and quickly changed in the compartment while Peter was gone. It turned out that he needn’t have worried, as Peter still hadn’t returned fifteen minutes later.

 

When they arrived they were instructed to leave all their baggage on the train.

 

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ere!” called the biggest man James had ever seen, holding a giant lantern over the heads of the students. James pushed his way over to the man along with some other first years.

 

They all followed the man over to the dock and all piled into a small fleet of boats. James ended up with a stuck up boy by the name of Benjy Fenwick, a greasy haired boy called Severus Snape and a girl with mesmerising wavy red hair that almost met her waist named Lily Evans. They all thought James was quite rude because it was too dark to see his signs so they got the impression he was ignoring them, which was frustrating to say the least.

 

They were greeted at the castle by a severe looking woman who went by the name of Professor McGonagall. She briefly explained the four houses and left with a warning to try and smarten themselves up (James could have sworn her eyes lingered for a moment on his untamable messy hair as she said this).

 

She arrived back a quarter of an hour later and led them into the hall for the sorting.

 

The whole hall started a fuss when a kid named Sirius Black got sorted into Gryffindor. James groaned internally, everyone knew about the rivalry between the Blacks and the Potters and now it seemed he was to be sharing a dorm with a Black. This was going to be an interesting seven years.

 

It was a while before James was called. He grinned when the hat called ‘Gryffindor’ almost before it had hit his head. He held his head high as he crossed the hall and sat next to a sandy-haired boy who had been sorted a few minutes back.

 

There were only a few more kids to be sorted before the feast began. James began to pile food onto his plate.

 

“Hi, I’m Molly, I’m Head Girl, what’re your names?” asked a girl with a kind, pleasantly round face framed by curly red hair.

 

“I’m Remus.” said the boy next to James quietly.

 

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” she said kindly, “and you?”

 

James flushed slightly, _I’m James._ He signed slowly.

 

She looked surprised for a moment, “It’s nice to meet you too, James.”

 

 _You know sign language?_ He asked hopefully.

 

“Yes. It was mentioned in the letter about my duties as Head, but it didn’t say who it was. I figured it would be worth it to learn.”

 

 _Thanks._ He smiled.

 

“You’re very welcome.” she smiled warmly at him before moving further down the table.

 

James felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to look at the boy from earlier, Remus.

 

“Hi.” he said, slightly awkwardly, “It’s James, isn’t it?”

 

James nodded slowly.

 

“Please tell me you use BWSL and I didn’t waste my entire summer learning the wrong thing.” (A/N - BWSL stands for British Wizarding Sign Language, which is like BSL except with a few magical terms thrown in and some purely Muggle terms taken out)

 

James laughed (a purely silent laugh) and nodded.

 

“Thank goodness.” he sighed, “Which class are you looking forward to most? I think Charms will be interesting and Defence Against The Dark Arts and -” he went on to list almost all of the subjects they would be taking.

 

_I’m really interested in Transfigurations, but I’m also looking forward to flying._

 

“Say, how do you think you’ll be doing the incantations?” asked Remus, “Merlin that sounded rude. I’m so sorry.”

 

 _It’s fine. I don’t know about the magic. I suppose they’ve come up with something or they wouldn’t have let me come._ He shrugged.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They continued to converse until they they reached the dormitory. Sirius Black had already claimed one of the middle beds. Peter had chosen the bed furthest from Sirius’.

 

“Potter.” he said.

 

James inclined his head slightly, glaring at Sirius.

 

“Look. I know our families are rivals but honestly, give a guy a chance before deciding to hate him, eh Potter?”

 

James raised one of his eyebrows at Sirius.

 

“Oh come on! I’m in Gryffindor for goodness sake!”

 

_How do I know you didn’t manipulate the hat so that you can spy on us?_

 

It was Sirius’ turn to look incredulous, “I literally went out of my way to learn sign language because my mother said I wasn’t allowed to. Does that sound like some bloody kiss up to you, Potter? If you don’t believe me now you’ll believe me after the stupid howler I’ll be receiving tomorrow after my mother finds out.”

 

James looked at Sirius suspiciously but he looked completely serious (no pun intended). James stuck his hand out to Sirius, who looked at him as if he’d grown another head before shaking it vigorously.

 

“I didn’t expect that to work.” he said, looking relieved, “I thought for a moment I was going to have to live in a dormitory with a bunch of guys who hated me for seven years.”

 

 _Nah. You’re going to have to prove yourself, though._ He looked around the room, his eyes twinkling.

 

“If you’re not suggesting that we prank the entire school then I’ll be disappointed.”

 

And just like that, James Potter and Sirius Black became best friends.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Finally got the gang together! Anyway, in case you were wondering, the wizarding world is not kind to people with disabilities, due to the fact that they like to “override” the disability, and the sign language was created back before they had spells to “fix” the disability and to the wizarding world (Pureblood supremacists) disabilities are considered a Muggle trait and makes a witch or wizard, no matter what their blood status, both a disgrace to the wizarding world and quite often below the level of a Muggle-born. Thanks again for all your encouraging comments and sorry for rambling. Until next time!


	4. Chapter Four

James woke up before all the other boys, deciding to take a shower before waking them up. Once he had showered he set about waking the others up.

 

He woke Peter up first, gently shaking his shoulder. Next was Remus, he looked quite pale and a bit sick but he still managed to plaster a smile on his face after he woke. Sirius on the other hand seemed to panic when he was woken up, scrambling away from James' touch, his eyes wide. He later tried to brush it off, claiming that he didn't like to be touched.

 

"How long've you been up?" asked Remus groggily, rubbing his eyes.

 

_About an hour, I think. Maybe a bit longer._

 

"How do you wake up so bloody early?" interrupted Sirius, who was attempting to drag a brush through his knotty, shoulder-length hair.

 

James shrugged.

 

Remus pushed himself up off the bed, his legs wobbling slightly and headed over to the bathroom. "I'm going to have a shower, okay?”

 

James took the time when the others were getting ready to compose a letter to his parents, telling them about the people he’d met and getting into Gryffindor. Once he was satisfied with the letter he sealed it in an envelope and put it in his bag. He’d take it to the Owlery later.

 

When they were finally ready they headed down to breakfast. During breakfast they were given their timetables, and along with James’ he got a note.

 

“What’s your letter say?” asked Sirius, peering over James’ shoulder despite the fact that he hadn’t unfolded it yet.

 

James rolled his eyes and unfolded the note. It told James that he was to meet Professor McGonagall after dinner that night.

 

“Ooh, Is Jamesie in trouble already?” said Sirius, James elbowed him in the ribs.

 

Sirius’ smile was wiped away when a large owl flew in, dropping a scarlet envelope on the table in front of him.

 

“Damnit! I was hoping it would take her at least a week to find out!”

 

He picked up the letter cautiously. It appeared to be steaming.

 

“Just open it and get it over with.” said Peter, looking at the Howler as if it were about to explode.

 

Sirius swallowed and opened the envelope carefully. It burned and flew out of his hands.

 

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK! HOW DARE YOU GET SORTED INTO THAT HOUSE! YOU HAVE BROKEN TRADITION AND BROUGHT OUR FAMILY DEEP SHAME! I AM ASHAMED TO CALL YOU MY SON! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! WE WILL BE CALLING IN TO THE SCHOOL IN A FEW DAYS TO ARRANGE FOR YOUR TRANSFER TO SLYTHERIN AND WE’LL DEAL WITH YOUR UNGRATEFUL ARSE THEN! I HOPE YOU’RE PLEASED WITH YOURSELF!” The letter tore itself to bits, most of which landed in Sirius’ breakfast. Most of the hall was staring and Sirius tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

A tall, dark haired girl stood up from the Slytherin table and crossed the hall.

 

“Come with me, you filthy little disgrace!” she hissed.

 

“Please Bella, leave me alone.”

 

Bellatrix seized Sirius by the ear and dragged him out of the hall. Everyone went back to their breakfast, pretending that nothing had happened.

 

 _Should we go after them?_ Signed James, concerned.

 

“Nah, let Sirius fight his own battles. He’ll be fine.”

 

When Sirius came back, a while later, he had a bruise spreading across his face, but he insisted he was okay.

 

The classes were fairly boring, mostly just an introduction to the subject and maybe a demonstration or two, but Sirius and James managed to annoy Snape and Evans, who, as it turned out, were best friends.

 

Dinner passed quickly and James soon found himself outside Professor McGonagall’s office, waiting to be let in.

 

“Ah yes, come in Potter.” she said when she opened the door.

 

She told him to sit down and offered him a biscuit, which he accepted.

 

“We’re here to discuss your options for learning magic.”

 

_I will be able to, won’t I?_

 

“Oh I daresay you’ll be able to. I believe that the best option for you is to learn to do spells non-verbally. The only issue is that this branch of magic is complicated, which is why we begin to teach it at a sixth year NEWT level. Many wizards and witches never quite manage to master the art.”

 

_What if I can’t do it?_

 

“With an attitude like that you almost certainly won’t be able to. You’re quite bright Potter, it might be a bit complicated, as I don’t believe this branch of magic has ever been successfully taught to anyone as young as yourself before, but that’s not to say it can’t be done.”

 

James swallowed and nodded slowly, allowing it to sink in.

 

“I’ll be teaching you, Potter. Please return to my office same time tomorrow, and bring your classwork.”

 

_Thank you, Professor._

 

“You’re quite welcome, Potter.”

 

She quickly went through the facts and explained how non-verbal magic worked and sent James on his way.

 

“What did McGonagall want?” asked Sirius lazily as James entered the dormitory.

 

_She’s going to be teaching me non-verbal spells._

 

“Really?” said Remus interestedly, “don’t they normally only start teaching them to NEWT level students?”

 

_That’s what McGonagall said. They’re supposed to be really hard._

 

“Good luck, mate.” said Sirius, chuckling, “D’you reckon they’ll keep you back if you can’t learn them and you’ll still be in first year trying to learn to levitate a feather when we graduate?”

 

_I’m hoping that I won’t have to find out._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review! Bye!


	5. Chapter Five

The next day they had Transfiguration first. Professor McGonagall handed out matchsticks to each student. She then explained that they were to be turning the matchsticks into needles. After briefly explaining the wand movements and the spell she set the class to work.

 

James looked down at his matchstick, unsure of what to do. He tried visualising the spell, enunciating it in his head and waving his wand in the correct motion like McGonagall had said the previous night but nothing happened.

 

He continued to try for a few more minutes before giving up, not even having managed to make the slightest change to the match. Even Peter, whose wand movements were jerky and shaky, had managed to give his match a bit of a shiny tinge and make the end all pointy.

 

He put his wand down and rested his head in his arms, frustrated.

 

“Mate,” said Sirius, “nothing’s going to happen if all you do is sit there and mope.”

 

James rolled his eyes, glaring up at Sirius.

 

Professor McGonagall came around the room, checking everyone’s work.

 

“Yours still has a wood-grain pattern on it, Black.”

 

“I reckon it looks good, though, Professor.” said Sirius, crossing his arms.

 

“Potter,” she said, catching James’ attention, “I see you’ve not made any progress on your match.”

 

 _I tried._ He signed defensively.

 

“I never said you didn’t. No matter, we’ll work on it later.”

 

James nodded his head crossly.

 

*****

 

In Charms they practised wand movements, most specifically the swish-and-flick, as they would be using it for the levitating spell they’d be learning the next lesson. That wasn’t so bad, James supposed, but he was still frustrated and found it hard to concentrate on what Flitwick was saying.

 

Once Flitwick had said his piece he set them about practising the wand movements as he scurried around the classroom, correcting and giving advice.

 

“Mr Potter,” he squeaked, “Could you please demonstrate the swish-and-flick for me?”

 

James lifted his head off of his arms, where he’d laid it near the start of the lesson. He picked up his wand and quickly made the motion.

 

“Very good, very good.” he said, before continuing on his way, stopping to remind Peter that it was the ‘swish-and-flick’, not the ‘flick-and-swish’ as he’d been doing.

 

*****

 

The Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher (James had been informed that no teacher had lasted more than a year) Professor Poranji, was squat, round and entirely off her rocker. She screamed half her words and yelled the rest. She also seemed to be under the impression that they were about to be attacked at any moment.

 

She spent the whole lesson lecturing them about all of the things that could kill them at any moment, and how if they didn’t pay utmost attention in her classes they would surely be dead within moments of leaving the school’s protective boundaries.

 

Poranji set them to work practising the leg-locker jinx, telling them that it may very well save their lives some day.

 

James didn’t even bother to try, which earned him a stern lecture about participating in class. He was partnered with Remus.

 

“C’mon James.” said Remus quietly, “just give it a shot.”

 

James glared at him, but picked his wand up anyway.

 

He pointed his wand and thought the incantation, willing Remus’ legs to spring together. Nothing happened.

 

“S’alright.” said Remus as James dropped back into his chair, frustrated, “non-verbal spells are really difficult, besides … I think I felt a little bit of a pull.”

 

_You’re just saying that to try and make me feel better._

 

“I’ll have no idle chatter and dilly-dallying in my class.” yelled Poranji, “You two – show me what you’ve got.”

 

James gulped and stood up. Remus caught his eye and smiled encouragingly. He lifted his wand and pointed it at James’ legs.

 

“ _Locomotor Mortis,_ ” he said clearly, and James’ legs sprang together, causing him to drop backwards onto his seat.

 

“Very well done, Lupin! Potter, your turn!” she undid the jinx on James’ legs and he stood up once more, looking at Remus, who was beaming despite himself.

 

James thought the spell with all his might, focusing until his face went entirely red with the effort. He gave up, lowering his wand.

 

“I think you forgot to say the incantation, boy!” Poranji said, chuckling lightly.

 

James dropped his wand onto the desk.

 

_I can’t!_

 

“Ah, you’re the disabled kid. I’m sure you’ll be sorted out soon enough.” she looked at James distastefully.

 

James had had enough. He pushed past Poranji and stormed out of the classroom, not bothering to collect his things.

 

Not knowing what to do he wandered the castle. After a while he reached a part of the castle he’d never seen before, and soon found himself quite lost.

 

He heard an odd whimpering noise off to the side of the hallway. Curious, he pressed his ear against a large wooden door – the only door in the entire corridor. There was clearly something in the room.

 

He pulled on the handle and oddly enough, the door wasn’t locked. He opened the door just far enough for him to slip in and entered.

 

On the other side of the room was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. It was a tiny puppy, but it had three heads. It was chained to the wall and seemed rather afraid of its surroundings. A large food bowl to the side read the name “Fluffy”.

 

James crossed the room cautiously. The dog seemed to be rather short-sighted, because it only acknowledged his presence when he was a few meters away, jumping to its feet and wagging its tail, yipping excitedly. James smiled for what seemed to be the first time that day and knelt down, holding his hand out to it.

 

All three heads pushed each other, all trying to lick his hand. Once he had decided it was perfectly safe he scooted closer, sitting down next to the dog. He scratched it behind all six of its ears, feeling a lot more relaxed than he had a few minutes back.

 

As he played with the dog he found himself wondering where it came from, and who left it here. It had clearly had attention from someone, considering it was quite friendly, but this seemed to be quite an odd place to keep a pet.

 

Soon, Fluffy grew tired and fell asleep, leaning against James. He lightly rubbed the dog’s tummy as it slept.

 

James leant back against the wall, feeling content and wondering how long he’d be able to stay here before people got worried and whether he’d be able to come back again.

 

It appeared James had dozed off.

 

“Wha’re yeh doin’ ‘ere?” said a booming voice, waking both James and Fluffy.

 

James stood up quickly, attempting to brush the dog hair out of his jumper.

 

 _Sorry._ Signed James, looking down at his shoes defeatedly.

 

“S’alright.” said Hagrid, correctly guessing the meaning of James’ sign, “Jest don’ tell anyone ‘bout Fluffy, alrigh’?”

 

James brightened significantly, nodding and leaving the room quickly.

 

*****

 

“Where’ve you been?” asked Sirius, when James had finally found his way back to the common room.

 

“Yeah, you’ve been gone all day!” said Peter.

 

James shook his head.

 

 _Got lost._ He signed simply.

 

Remus nodded understandingly.

 

“We should make a map.” Peter said.

 

“What if we made it so that it would show us where everyone in the castle was?” suggested Sirius, grinning.

 

“That would be next to impossible.” said Remus logically, his brow furrowed.

 

“But not _im_ possible. I reckon we could do it.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hi! Here’s the next chapter, not so sure about how I feel about it. Also, I want to know if you guys want more of James getting overwhelmed kinda easy and having to take some time out to calm down or not? Do you think that would add more depth to his character and the story or just be a bit over the top? Give me your opinion! Thanks and see you next time I upload!


	6. Chapter Six

"You're late, Potter." said McGonagall as James arrived, breathless at her door, "come in and sit down."

 

He sat down and took a biscuit she offered him.

 

"Now, if my information is correct, you ran out during Defence and weren't seen for the rest of the day?"

 

James flushed a bit and nodded.

 

"Why?"

 

 _I_ he paused, _I don't know. I was upset and then ... I guess I just got overwhelmed and then I just had to get out._

 

"I would suggest, in future, if you're feeling overwhelmed and need some space you tell your teacher so that they can help." she said sternly, "but that's not why you're here. As far as I'm aware you've had no luck as of yet?"

 

James stared intently at his hands in his lap.

 

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Potter. You must remember that you're attempting at a branch of magic well above your level and it may take a while!"

 

James' expression clearly said that he'd much rather it didn't.

 

"Now, what've you been working on recently?"

 

_Just the match in your class and the leg-locking curse in Defence._

 

"Alright. We'll start with Transfiguration." she brought out a box of matches from her desk, opening it and placing one of the matches on her desk. She pulled her wand out from her robes and changed the match, silently, into a needle.

 

"That's what you'll be doing, with practice, of course." she took out another match, "Your turn." she put the match down in front of him, "I want you to envision the spell, clearing your mind of everything else. Focus on changing the match into a needle. This will become much easier as you practice."

 

James grabbed his wand, holding it tightly and tried to follow what McGonagall said, his face going red with the effort.

 

He gave up a minute or so later and McGonagall picked up the match, inspecting it quickly and putting it back down.

 

"Now is not the time to be giving up, Potter. Try again."

 

James continued to try for another hour or so before McGonagall dismissed him, although he had made little difference to the match. He left the office feeling discouraged.

 

When he arrived back at the dormitory he found Peter and Remus sitting on Remus’ bed, poring over a thick book and Sirius, who was lying on his stomach on the floor, scribbling something down on a sheaf of parchment, chewing absent-mindedly on the end of his quill.

 

“How’d it go?” asked Peter, looking quite as if James had walked in on him doing something embarrassing.

 

 _Still nothing._ Signed James. Remus whispered something in Peter’s ear.

 

“Oh, well … I’m sure you’ll get it soon!”

 

_What are you lot doing?_

 

“I know I’m not the most qualified teacher,” said Remus wearily, “but I thought someone ought to teach Pete some sign language sooner rather than later.”

 

James flushed slightly at the notion and nodded slowly.

 

Sirius only just seemed to notice that James was there.

 

“Hey. C’mon, I need your opinion. I figured if we’re going to do a start of term prank we’d have to do it soon – we’ll have to do it at the start of term feast in future -”

 

James grinned crookedly and lay on the floor on the other side of the parchment from Sirius, attempting to read Sirius’ cultured scrawl upside-down.

 

“I’ve done something a bit like this at home,” said Sirius, James noting how he said the last word slightly bitterly, “but this would be so much bigger.”

 

He turned the sheaf of parchment around so that James could read it properly. Once he had finished reading it he snatched Sirius’ quill and scribbled down some changes, his handwriting making Sirius’ handwriting look even neater than it previously had.

 

Sirius took the parchment back and read through, grinning slightly at the things James had written.

 

“Alright, let me look at that.” said Remus. Sirius reluctantly handed the parchment over. Remus looked it through, “quill.”

 

Once Remus had the quill he scribbled on some amendments. Peter looked over his shoulder and made a few quiet suggestions.

 

Soon they had a complete plan, with little additions from all four of them.

 

Sirius looked at the battered watch on his wrist.

 

“It’s half an hour ‘til curfew, so no-one’ll question us if we go out now ... explore the castle ...”

 

It took a little while to convince Remus, but soon enough the four had slipped out of the common room and up the hallway.

 

“Which way now?” whispered Peter, as Sirius and James looked around the corner.

 

“There is only one way, dummy!” said Sirius, leading the small group around the corner.

 

It was a pathetically short period of time before they were caught, the caretaker, a greasy man by the name of Mr Filch, grinning gleefully as he led the lot of them to McGonagall.

 

“Caught up out of bounds already?” she said, shaking her head but with the smallest tug of of a smile gracing her lips, “I trust you can see yourself out, Argus?”

 

Filch left the room reluctantly. McGonagall turned to the four sheepish-looking boys.

 

“What do you think you were doing?”

 

 _Please, Professor._ James signed quickly, _we wanted to have a better look around the castle and we didn’t realise how late it was._

 

“Be that as it may, Potter, you must all realise the seriousness of of your actions.” she looked at them down her long nose, “I’ll be taking ten points from Gryffindor for each of you. Now, I suggest you all find your way back up to the common room smartly. In future I will not be so lenient.”

 

All four of them nodded their consent and piled out of the office.

 

“Phew! That was lucky!” whispered Peter.

 

“How was it lucky?” said Sirius, who appeared positively miserable, “I had the chance to score my first detention of the year and I blew it!”

 

“Can you hear yourself? ‘I missed the chance to snag my first detention of the year’! The detentions will be on your track record forever!”

 

“Ah, Remy! You underestimate how much I don’t care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hi. I wanted to apologize for the crappy job I did writing this chapter (I may have written something else then realized that the story hadn’t really progressed enough for that event to take place so I had to write something else and it’s really dodgy and improvised). Anyway, none of you really gave me an answer as to whether or not you wanted James to be kind of easily overwhelmed and sometimes just has to take some time out to calm down or not. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and commented, your comments really make my day :). Until next time!


	7. Chapter Seven

James woke up earlier than usual, which was just as well, because it would give them more time to set up the prank before lots of people crowded into the great hall.

He took a quick shower and woke up the rest of the dormitory.

"Whassamatter with you? Waking me up so early!" Complained Sirius, rolling out of his bed and onto the floor.

James rolled his eyes and grabbed the plans, collecting a couple of things from the  list Remus had scribbled in the corner of the parchment as the others slowly woke themselves up.

A short while later they were all ready, although Remus looked rather sick.

James put the parchment down next to the supplies he had gathered _are you alright?_

"Yeah. I ... Uh ... Got a letter last night ... My mum is sick and I've got to go home and stay with her for a couple of days, that's all,"

James nodded , looking doubtful but deciding not to press the matter.

Unfortunately, Sirius had made no such decision.

"So your mum's sick, why do you look so off then?"

"I don't. I'm just ... A bit shaken - my mum never gets sick, you see. And it must be bad if she wants me home with her, right? I'm just worried is all,"

Peter rubbed Remus' back comfortingly, telling him that everything would be okay.

"Anyway," said Sirius dramatically, "if we don't hurry up there will be people in the hall and our plan will never work,"

"Right," said Remus grimly.

They did a double check, picking up a few things they'd missed and made there way down to the great hall, almost getting lost several times.

When they arrived they checked to make sure no one was around and emptied one of the pitchers of pumpkin juice.

Remus pulled out the plan and read out the instructions, with James and Sirius following until there was a jug full of what appeared to be a crudely made, bubbling yellow potion.

Remus insisted on checking the potion before they commenced part two. The prank wasn't great, due to the fact that none of them could do magic that well, but it was fairly solid.

Once Remus was done they poured a little of the concoction into every jug of pumpkin juice in the hall, then they poured a little of the juice from each pitcher back into the one they'd made the potion in, placing it back in its spot so that no one would know that anyone had been there.

They packed up their things and ran all the way back to the common room. A couple of older students were already out, sitting on the couches and waiting for their friends to arrive or cramming in some unfinished holiday work, but they didn't pay the four any attention.

They walked straight back up to their dormitory, hoping beyond hope that they hadn't stuffed up in one way or another.

They waited a while before heading back downstairs, still managing to be some of the first people in the hall, although it wasn't long until a stampede of students entered, swarming into their spots and piling food on their plates.

James watched, trying not to grin for fear of giving them away, as they waited for it to take effect.

Suddenly there was a scream from the Ravenclaw table. There was havoc around the hall as students' skin turned a motley of colours and multicoloured bubbles poured from their ears.

It soon became clear that no one was hurt, some of the students were laughing, grinning as they discussed who they thought had done it. Most people suspected a couple of fifth year boys, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, but they seemed just as baffled as everyone else.

Some people didn't find it nearly as funny. A blonde third year girl from Slytherin stood up, wiping coloured bubbles out of her silky hair. She was fuming.

"You wait 'til my father hears about this!" She shrieked. Half the school rolled their eyes, clearly this wasn't the first time the girl had said something of the sort.

Soon enough the excitement died down and everyone rushed to cram some food in before they had to leave for their classes.

Looking down at his timetable, James realised that they had Herbology first, a class they hadn't had yet.

"Herbology?" Said Sirius, looking over James' shoulder, "that sounds like a waste of time and effort. What're we supposed to do – separate basil from thyme or something?"

James shrugged, standing up and almost knocking Sirius out of his seat.

"What was that for?" Yelled Sirius dramatically, "I thought you were my friend!"

James rolled his eyes, along with several of the older students.

"You don't care about meeee!" He whined, standing up and facing James, his arms crossed as he fake-sniffled.

 _You'll be fine, at least I care about you more than your mother does_ James signed.

"Well that's not saying very much, is it?" Replied Sirius, not missing a beat.

_Perhaps not, but I care about you more than that blonde Slytherin girl cares about her hair!_

"IMPOSSIBLE! My dear cousin Narcissa cares about her hair more than You-Know-Who cares about ridding the world of Muggles and Muggle-Borns!" Sirius exclaimed.

James held up his hands to signal defeat, but he was grinning, _is there anyone in Slytherin you're NOT related to?_

"I doubt it," said Sirius grimly.

"Come on, you two, we'll be late if we don't hurry,"

Sirius looked like he was about to retort, but at Remus' look he fell into step, his arm tossed casually over James' shoulder.

The Herbology teacher was a somewhat plump witch in her early twenties. She introduced herself as Professor Sprout and expressed how excited she was to be teaching them all.

After explaining a couple of things she had them all collecting some oddly shaped beans off some bushes that definitely did not want to be harvested, apparently they were for one of Professor Kettleburn's new creatures.

About halfway through the class she sought James out to have a chat.

"Hi," she had said chirpily, "you must be James Potter! Would you mind having a quick chat with me outside?"

James had shaken his head to indicate that he didn't mind, but only because he hadn't seen another option.

"So, James - I may call you that, right?'

James shrugged in reply.

"Right. I've heard about your little … Er … Issue, and I wanted to have a quick chat to make sure we're on the same page."

He nodded curtly for her to go on.

"Alright, as I'm aware, you communicate mainly using BWSL?"

James nodded affirmatively.

"So that's all in order, apart from that there are very few plants that you'll need to talk to use, and at any rate you'll be with a partner for almost everything. Do you have anything else you are confused about?"

James shook his head, not wanting the conversation to carry on any longer.

"Well, if you ever have any questions, feel free to ask." She said, finally allowing James back into the greenhouse.

"What was that all about?" asked Sirius, when James returned.

  


_She wanted to have a chat about my – you know …_

  


"Oh … right."

  


"Well," said Sirius, when the class was over and they were heading back up the lawns for Charms, "That class was just as boring as I thought it was going to be."

  


"I thought it was fun!" said Peter, digging dirt out from under his fingernails.

  


"That's 'cause you're _boring_ , Petey." Sirius replied, hastily adding "just kidding!" at Peter's expression.

  


"Looks like the potion is wearing off already," noted Remus, nodding towards a group of fourth year Hufflepuffs making their way down to the greenhouses.

  


"Potion? Does that mean you four were responsible for what happened this morning at breakfast?” said a voice from behind them.

  


“I’d expect you’re just jealous, Evans.” said Sirius nonchalantly, turning around. Lily’s face was a fading and rather odd combination of blue, yellow and pink – although the pink may have just been her angry flush showing through.

  


“I ought to tell Professor McGonagall!”

  


“But you have no proof, see, how are you going to convince anyone that a bunch of first years managed to do that to the majority of the school?”

  


Lily huffed and pushed past them, walking up to the castle as fast as she could.

  


“That went well,” said Sirius, “c’mon, wouldn’t want to be late! I think we’re doing that levitating charm thing.”

  


_And here I was, thinking that you didn’t care about your classes at all!_

  


“I don’t. I just want to see Evans’ face when I levitate her homework into the fire.”

  


James frowned, but quickly covered it up. Levitating someone’s homework into the fire didn’t seem right, but he figured it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person.

  


The thing James hated most about charms was the fact that they shared the class with the Slytherins. He mostly just tried to ignore them and focus on the lesson.

  


“I hope you all remember the wand movement we were learning last lesson,” squeaked Professor Flitwick, “Say it with me: The swish-and-flick. Very good. The incantation is _Wingardium Leviosa._ I’d like you all to practice in your pairs, and try to levitate the feather. I’ll be coming around and helping you.”

  


The entire class got to work, waving their wands and saying the incantation.

  


_You go first._ James signed at Sirius, whom he was partnered with, _If I go first we’ll be here all lesson and you won’t get a shot._

  


“Yeah, okay.” Sirius raised his wand, swishing and flicking as he said, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

  


The feather lifted about an inch of the desk before floating back down.

  


“Your turn,” he said.

  


James gulped, picking up his wand. He tried to clear his mind but the classroom was too loud, making him feel trapped, as if the loud chatter was closing in, suffocating him.

  


Suddenly, someone was shaking his shoulder.

  


“-mes! Mate! What was that? You just sorta zoned out and then all but started hyperventilating!”

  


_Sorry._ Signed James, his hands shaking, _I don’t know what happened._

  


“Right.” Sirius frowned, “So you’re alright then?”

  


James nodded, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

  


“What’s going on over here?” asked Flitwick, who had apparently made his way over to their table while they were distracted.

  


Sirius glanced at James for a second before saying, “I was about to try the spell,”

  


“Alright then, let’s see it.”

  


He levelled his wand at the feather, saying the enchantment clearly and waving his wand. This time the feather lifted a couple inches higher than the last try before sinking back down to the table.

  


“Very good, but you must remember to stay focused, that way you’ll be able to hold the spell for longer.”

  


“Okay,”

  


“Mr Potter, before you try, I’d like to inquire as to whether or not you’ve made any progress on your non-verbal spellwork?”

  


James shook his head, staring down at his hands.

  


“No matter, after all, it is a rather complex branch of magic. Nevertheless, I’d still like you to attempt.”

  


Lifting his wand, James pointed his wand at the feather and swished it, punctuating the swish with a flick and thinking the enchantment as hard as he could. The feather didn’t move. James glared at it, feeling a lump forming in his throat.

  


“It’s quite alright, Mr Potter.” he said. He was about to continue when a letter flew into the room in the form of a small paper aeroplane.

  


Flitwick read the letter quickly, “I’ll be right back,” he squeaked, and ran from the classroom.

  


“What was that all about?” asked Remus, who was on Sirius’ other side.

  


Sirius shrugged, but didn’t get the chance to say anything.

  


“Oi Potty!” called someone from behind them, they spun around.

  


“Saw you’re having a bit of trouble with your spellwork,” sneered a thickset boy James was Fairly sure was called Avery, “you’re positive you’re not a squib?”

  


“Of course he isn’t,” snarled a voice from the left, Snape, “he’s _special._ Potty claims he’s disabled! We should all give him special treatment like the defective little daisy he is!”

  


James clenched his fist, knowing full well that signing would be no use.

  


“What happens when they finally realise you’re a hopeless case, eh Potty? They’ll kick you out so fast it’ll make your head spin!”

  


“OI!” roared Sirius, “you leave him alone! He’s a better wizard than the three of you combined!”

  


“How so? He can’t even do a simple levitating charm! Face it, Black. He’s _hopeless_.”

  


Sirius launched himself at the three offending Slytherins, two of whom were bigger than he was, pummelling everywhere he could get, his eyes alight with fury.

  


“NEVER.” he yelled, between punches and kicks, “TALK – ABOUT – ANY – OF – MY – FRIENDS – LIKE – THAT – AGAIN!!”

  


“Or what? You’ll tell on us?” Mulciber sneered, “I’m sure your little boyfriend there would really appreciate you using the pity card about his defect to get us in trouble.”

  


James launched himself into the fight, although it was still pretty hopeless, Avery and Mulciber were like trolls – large, violent and always followed by a stench that made you want to throw up everything you’d eaten in the past decade of your life.

  


“What is going on here?” squeaked Flitwick, re-entering the classroom.

  


When the fight didn’t break up he separated the five boys with magic.

  


“Twenty points each from your respective houses. I don’t want to see this sort of behaviour in my class.”

  


“But Professor -” James elbowed Sirius in the ribs to shut him up.

  


“What?” exclaimed Sirius, as they sat back down, “I was just going to say -”

  


_No. You can’t play that card. You can’t use it as an excuse._

  


“But -”

  


_No. You don’t understand, Sirius. You’ll never be the disabled friend. Nobody feels sorry for you or treats you differently just because of who you are. I don’t want it to define me. It’s part of me and that won’t ever change but I’m more than just my disability and nobody seems to see that. No one will ever see it if I use it to get special treatment or sympathy. I want to be me; James. I want to be known for being me, not for being different. Please don’t use it as an excuse._

  


Sirius looked sheepish, “Sorry, mate.”

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – woah, this chapter is way longer than all the others. I want to apologize for the crappy chapter. I wrote it on my phone while following my family around some boring Australian History museum thing (I’m a very social person, you see), and my phone typing is really dodgy. Anyway, thanks to all of you people who have followed and favorited and especially my commenters because it makes me feel really special that you guys would not only take the time to read my story but you also took the time to give me your opinions and feedback (you don’t understand how excited I get when I check my notifications and see that I got a new review. It really makes my day :) . Sorry for rambling. I’ll see you next time!


	8. Chapter Eight

It had been a little over a week since he had arrived at Hogwarts and James had still not managed to make any progress with non-verbal spells at all.

Despite the fact that he'd been told numerous times that it was to be expected and that it was nothing to be embarrassed about, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault, and he half expected McGonagall to tell him that it was no use, and that they were sending him home.

His irritable mood was having an effect on everything else as well, he felt as if his friends were only being nice to him because they felt sorry for him, or otherwise because his failure made them feel better, and he'd walked out of several classes because he was feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, the Slytherins weren't helping matters either. To be honest, James just wanted to give up.

Neither of his parents had replied to any of his letters, and that certainly didn't help his mood.

James stomped into his lesson with McGonagall and slumped into the chair, not nothing to return her greeting.

"I take it things haven't been going as well as you would have liked, Potter?"

He continued to stare into his lap, ignoring her.

"I refuse to have this kind of behaviour in my office, Potter, especially not from self pitying little boys," she said it sternly, but not unkindly.

_Why did I have to be different?_

"Because you did. Clearly, whatever or whomever decides people's fates thought you were strong enough to handle it. But your question should not be 'why did it happen?', it really ought to be 'how can I become a better person because of it?'"

James rolled his eyes. _L_ _et's just get on with it, then._

"Not so fast, Potter. Take a biscuit." She pushed a tartan tin towards him. He stared at her for a second before taking a ginger newt.

He held the biscuit between his teeth and signed _I took a stupid biscuit. Now what?_

"Now we chat. You've been leaving your classes. Why?"

James glared at her incredulously. He didn't want to be here.

"Glaring isn't an appropriate answer. I understand you may be confused about some of the things that are going on, and I can't force you to talk about it, but it is unwise to keep your problems to yourself."

_Can't we just move on to the magic already?_

"Alright, but I would like to remind you that your friends are there for you and you can trust them. I don't want to see you secluding yourself because you're frustrated. I think you'll find that they can be your greatest source of encouragement"

James rolled his eyes at the statement. McGonagall chose to ignore it and set a match out. She reminded him of the enchantment before he set to work.

After a couple of minutes he dropped his wand on the table, _it's hopeless. I may as well go home now_

"I don't think your match thinks so."

James' head snapped up. The match was still, for the most part, a match, but it had gone mostly cylindrical and it has the faintest silvery tinge.

"That, Mr Potter, is progress," she said. She got out a quill from her drawer, "let's set that aside for a moment and work on your Charms."

James went at the quill with a little more confidence, and soon had it levitating half-an-inch off the table. It wasn't much, but it was something.

They went about practising some of the other spells they'd been learning, some with more success than others.

"Well done, Potter," she said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

She offered him another biscuit and sent him on his way.

"So, how'd it go?" Asked Sirius, the way he always did.

 _I made a little bit of progress,_ James signed.

"Good on you, mate!" He said, jumping up and clapping him on the back, "while you were out I found this in one of the older guys' dorms," he grinned, holding up a box of extra long lasting hair dye that made your hair change colours depending on your mood, "and I reckon we've got some Slytherins to get back at."

_Isn't that really cliché though? Everyone does the hair-changing prank._

"Actually, I thought we could dilute it and put it in with their laundry,"

"You know what laundry is, Sirius? I would have thought you were too posh for that," said Remus dryly, demonstrating a sign to Peter.

"Bugger off, Remy!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Whatever you say, Remy."

Remus rolled his eyes, refusing to get into the silly argument.

"Fine! I'll just talk to James then." Sirius stomped dramatically and turned to face his friend, "anyway, did you see the notice? We're taking flying lessons in a couple of days, and with Slytherin of all people!"

 _At least I'll be able to show them I'm not completely worthless,_ James signed. If signs could sound bitter, those ones surely would have.

"You really need assurance of your worth from those stuck up gits?"

James shook his head, _I only want to prove my point to them._

"Sure, and I'm Albus Dumbledore,"

"Really? You don't look much like Dumbledore."

"I was being _sarcastic_ Pete!" Said Sirius exasperatedly.

"Oh," he said, before changing the topic, "I think I'm getting kinda good at this whole sign language thing! Want to test me?"

James shrugged, trying to think of something fairly simple, _Hi. How are you?_ was what he went for, signing slowly.

"Uh ... Did you say 'hi, how are you'?"

_Technically, I didn't say anything._

Sirius laughed. Peter looked to Remus for a translation. Remus obliged. Peter looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you!" He squeaked, which made Sirius laugh even harder.

James shook his head, smiling at Peter in an attempt to tell him that it was fine.

Sirius was bent double, trying to control his laughter, the only problem was that every time he looked up and saw either James or Peter he'd burst out laughing again.

James clapped Peter on the back genially. Peter grinned embarrassedly.

After what seemed like forever, Sirius stopped laughing.

 _Wait, how are we even going to get anywhere near the Slytherins' laundry anyway?_ signed James.

"I reckon those guys, Gideon and Fabian, would know. Apparently they used to be the biggest pranksters in the school, until we came along, of course," Sirius grinned mischievously.

_That'll be an interesting conversation,_

"Nah. We'll just say we've got a score to settle if they ask for an explanation," he shrugged.

James raised an eyebrow.

"Like they'd turn us in." scoffed Sirius, rolling his eyes, "besides, even if they do they'll have no proof."

_Right. Do you reckon we'd be able to get some of that stuff in with Evans' clothes as well?_

"As far as I'm aware, the house-elves do the laundry by dormitory, which means we'd have to do it to all the first year girls in Gryffindor." he shrugged.

_Shame. I would've liked to see her running around in multicoloured robes, especially if it clashed with her hair. Anyway, do you think there's a way we could make it so that nobody notices the colour on their own robes?_

"They'd all think they'd gone mad!" laughed Sirius.

Peter was looking between the two boys, trying to work out what was going on, despite the fact that he could only really understand one side of the conversation. Remus had pulled out his homework and his charms textbook.

"Are we really _that_ boring to you, Remy?"

Remus rolled his eyes and went back to his homework.

"Fine. If you're going to ignore us we'll just have to go find those Gideon and Fabian fellows without you!"

"You do that."

It wasn't quite the response Sirius was was hoping for, but he recovered himself quickly, grabbing James and Peter by the arms and dragging them out of the dormitory with them.

"Do you even know where they are?" asked Peter, when they were halfway down the stairs.

"Well, they're either in their dormitory, in the common room or somewhere else in the school." Sirius replied.

 _That is the least helpful thing I've ever heard._ Signed James. Sirius didn't notice.

As it turned out, they found them lounging on a couch in the middle of the common room.

"Hello," said Sirius, "I'm Sirius and these two twats are James and Pete."

"Right. I'm Fideon and that's Gabian. What brings three ickle firsties to this part of the common room?" grinned one of the red-headed boys.

"I thought you were called Gideon and Fabian?" squeaked Peter.

"Nah. Molly's made us these jumpers every Christmas since she was seven," said Fabian

"She's actually getting kind of good at it," interjected Gideon,

"Anyway, they have these letters on them and – you know what, never-mind. What can we do for you three then?"

"We have a score to settle with some gits."

"Right, we hear you."

"And we figured you would know where the house elves do the laundry."

"Why would we know something like that?"

"Because you _were_ the biggest pranksters in the school."

"Were?"

"Until we came along." said Sirius smugly.

"We're not giving up our thrones just like that," said Gideon, "Besides, what make you think you're better than us? That one hasn't even said anything this whole time!"

James flushed, looking down at his shoes.

"That's because he doesn't talk," said Sirius dismissively, "Anyway - "

"Does he have anything to do with the dumb sign language Mol tried to force us to learn? ‘Course, we said no. What a bloody waste of time!” They made a bunch of random, over-exaggerated and stupid looking gestures with their hands, making stupid faces as they had a ‘conversation’ with each other before bursting out laughing. It was more than a little bit hurtful.

“Yeah,” said Sirius icily, “well, if you can’t tell us where it is we’ll be going.”

“Fine. On the third floor there’s a statue of a wizard by the name ‘Emeric the Unjust’. Tap his elbow with your wand three times and you’ll get in.”

“Thanks,” said Sirius, not sounding thankful at all. He spun around and grabbed the other two by their arms and dragging them up the stairs, muttering about ‘bloody gits’.

“Well that was rude.” he said, when they finally made it to the dormitory.

 _I’m sure they didn’t mean to –_ Sirius grabbed his hands to make him stop.

“No. It was uncalled for. They shouldn’t have done that.”

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” said Remus, “And why are you two holding hands?”

“We’re not – I was just making him stop his sentence.” said Sirius, letting go, “the important thing is that we got the information we needed. Even if the people we got it from were gits.”

“I thought you said Fabian and Gideon were cool.”

“No. They’re not.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They did something really rude,” Peter piped in.

“Rude to whom?”

Sirius cocked his head in James’ direction, the latter of whom was sitting on his bed with his back facing them, attempting to look as though he was immersed in his book, although he was quite clearly upset.

“Ah,” Remus stood up and quietly walked across the room, sitting on Sirius’ bed so that he was facing James. He reached out and touched James’ arm lightly, “you alright?”

James nodded minutely, not looking up from the book.

“If you were alright, you wouldn’t be ignoring me.” he tugged the book gently from James’ hands, marking the page and putting it down on the bedside table.

 _I’m fine._ Signed James, attempting to grab his book back.

“Let me rephrase it,” said Remus, moving the book past James’ reach, “what’s wrong?”

 _Didn’t they already tell you everything?_ James crossed his arms, glaring at Remus and around to Sirius and Peter, who looked back at him slightly sheepishly.

“All they told was that a couple of gits downstairs said something rude to you. That hardly counts as everything.” he said reasonably.

James rolled his eyes, keeping his arms firmly crossed.

“You know we’re your friends, right? We’re on your side, for Merlin’s sake!”

“He’s right, you know.” said a squeaky voice as the bed sank to James’ left, “That’s what friends are for. We support each other through the bad times and the good.”

“You’re not the only one with problems, you know,” said Remus, tugging on the sleeves of the second-hand robes that were already a little bit too small, “Pete’s got confidence issues, I’m -” he cut himself off, “My family is really poor and Sirius. Sirius-”

“-is too gosh darn perfect for his own good.”

James cracked a smile.

“Sirius’ ego is so big it’s a wonder his neck is able to hold his head up.” Remus amended, “See, none of us are perfect. Not even Sirius. But we’re here to support each other, no matter what.”

 _You sound like my grandma._ Signed James, finally having unfolded his arms, _She’s dead._

“Right.”

 _But thank you anyway._ He got up and hugged Remus, Peter joining shortly after.

“What are you _doing_?” asked Sirius, sounding confused.

“Hugging?” said Remus, breaking out of the hug. James and Peter broke apart too.

“’Hugging’?” he repeated, the word entirely foreign on his tounge, “I don’t – Why? How?”

 _Like this._ James tackled Sirius in a bear hug. Sirius stiffened and James let go, looking concerned.

_Have you really never been hugged before?_

Sirius shook his head, “I’m sure lots of people don’t -”

_No. That’s not normal. Everyone was hugged, at least when they were little._

“Well clearly not everyone. Leave it alone, would you?”

James nodded, his eyebrows furrowed.

“D’you think we could – try again?”

James smiled and hugged Sirius again, this time a little gentler. The other two joined, enveloping Sirius in a big, warm group hug.

When they all broke apart, James decided he wouldn’t mention the wet spot on his shirt where Sirius had buried his face.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I dunno what I just wrote tbh. Another longer chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Please comment/review, I love reading your feedback. Bai!


	9. Chapter Nine

They made sure to leave far enough from curfew that they wouldn't get caught, but close enough that there weren't heaps of people walking around.

"D'you think they were lying to us about where it is?" Whispered Peter, despite the fact that the corridor was empty and they weren't exactly sneaking around.

"Nah. I don't think they've got enough brain cells between them to come up with something like that on the spot," said Sirius, offhandedly.

 _Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?_ signed James, who had been walking backwards in front of them, because it made conversation easier.

"Nah."

"Won't there be house elves in there?" Remus realized.

_Probably, but this can't be the first time something like this has been done. Knowing elves, they'll probably leave us alone._

"Right," he said uneasily.

Soon enough, they reached the statue.

"Well, so far, so good." Said Sirius, pulling his wand from inside his sleeve and tapping the statue's elbow.

"If house elves apparate, then why is there a passage anyway?" Asked Peter as the statue moved aside, revealing a small corridor.

The only one who could properly stand in the corridor was Peter. Remus, who was the tallest of the group, had to do an odd kind of shuffle with his knees bent and his head crooked a little to the left so that he wouldn't hit the ceiling. James wasn't that much better off.

"Why did they make it so short?" Complained Sirius.

"You're one to talk," said Remus, rolling his eyes, "you're the second shortest. Besides, this was made for _house elves_. If you've forgotten, they're just a little shorter than we are."

When they finally reached the other side, Peter was the only one who wasn't rubbing and stretching his neck uncomfortably.

An elf with a nose almost as long as Snape's ran over.

"Hullo! What can Tiggy be doing for Masters ..."

"Oh, uh Peter," said Pete, realising the elf's unasked question.

"Remus." Said Sirius, indicating himself.

"Actually, _I'm_ Remus, that's Sirius."

"Why would you go around telling everyone my deepest secret like that?" Exclaimed Sirius dramatically.

James rolled his eyes. He figured it was his turn now, although he'd been secretly hoping one of the others would introduce him, so that he could avoid the awkwardness of the inevitable situation that the elves didn't know sign language. He felt he'd been through plenty enough of that in the past week or so already.

 _I'm James_ he signed resignedly.

"Is that being sign language, sir? Tiggy had heard tell - but she never thought - us elves is not knowing sign language, sir."

"Right," said Sirius, glancing at James apologetically, "he's James. Now, we've got things to do."

"Sorry mate," he said, when they had passed, "I completely forgot,"

 _It's fine, really,_ signed James, shaking his head, _Is it just me or_ _do you_ _have a tendency to_ _take offence in everything anyone says to me?_

"No, I don't. Don't be stupid."

"Don't we have something we ought to be doing?"

"Right. Uh … Split up. We'll find them faster that way."

The four boys split up, all taking towards different corners of the room, which was rather large and smelled of dry sweat and dampness.

They sifted through the clothes, checking the names on the tags. Finally, James found a basket with clothes labelled ‘Avery', 'M. Mulciber' and 'SS' along with a couple of others he didn't recognise.

James looked around the room, realising the flaw in Sirius' plan to have them split up. The closest boy to him was Peter, but he was still a fair way away.

He clicked his fingers, trying to catch Peter's attention and failing miserably. He rolled his eyes before clapping loudly, his hands stinging.

Remus whipped his head around from the other side of the room, but Peter didn't notice. James waved Remus over.

"You've found them?"

James nodded, _Yell at those two for me, would you?_

Remus laughed and called the other two over.

"I guess I didn't think that one out very well did I? Sorry mate. Again."

James shrugged, _It worked out just fine. Let's get on with this, shall we?_

Sirius nodded and swung the bag off his back, pulling a couple of things out and handing them to Peter, who was trying not to drop them.

He grabbed a nearby bucket and filled it about three quarters of the way with water. He plucked the dye from Peter's overstuffed arms and poured it into the water.

"James, you said that you wanted to do this Evans too? I think I've found a way to do that." He tied his hair back with a rubber band he'd stolen from Remus and picked a small bottle Peter had dropped off of the ground, "these dissolve in water. They should hold the solution without dissolving. If we wrap the robes tightly around the bottle and don't put too much in it should stop it from contaminating all the others' robes,"

 _And I thought Remus was the smart one._ James signed, impressed.

"How dare you accuse me of being the smart one!" Exclaimed Sirius, "Remus can keep his bloody title."

 _Language!_ scolded James jokingly.

"English, unlike you and Remus."

"Me?" said Remus.

"Yeah. You speak nerd."

"Right. Of course I do."

"You didn't notice?" said Sirius, ladling a bit of the solution into three of the little bottles, “I figured we may as well just pour the rest onto the Slytherins’ things. These three are for Evans, Gideon and Fabian, or ‘Gabian and Fideon’ as they call themselves.”

“I saw some Gryffindor stuff over there,” said Peter, indicating the area he’d been searching earlier.

“Right. I’ll get as many of the Slytherins as I can, James can get Evans and you two go for Fabian and Gideon. Got it?”

They all set off, Sirius splashing as many of the Slytherin robes as he could and the rest on the hunt for the others.

James found Lily’s fairly easily and wrapped all her robes around the little bottle as tightly as he could, holding the bundle together with her red and gold striped tie. He then tossed the bundle back where he’d gotten it and made his way back to the door.

Sirius was the last to arrive, glancing at his battered watch as he did so. He was panting slightly.

“We made good time. We’ve still got fifteen minutes to make it back up to the dormitory before curfew.”

_Why don’t we try exploring again? We’re close enough that I reckon we could easily make it to that part of the castle no one uses before anyone noticed._

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time we went ‘exploring’?” said Remus sceptically.

“Sure, but this time we won’t get caught.” said Sirius, who was immediately on board with the idea, “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to.”

“No. Alright, I’m coming.”

“Wait – what’s going on?” asked Peter, who they had all forgotten didn’t know very much sign language.

“We’re going to explore the castle,” said Sirius slowly, as if he were talking to a very small child.

“Oh,”

They made their way back up the cramped passageway and out into the third floor corridor, quickly slipping down a side passageway that had not-so-effectively disguised itself as a wall.

Sirius ducked as a Doxy dive bombed him, it crashed into an odd tarnished mirror leaning against the wall that it had apparently mistaken as more of the corridor. The Doxy fell to the floor and a couple more Doxies with tiny pieces of cotton stuck to their arms like paramedic bands flew in and dragged the unconscious Doxy out of the corridor by its oversized ears. The whole scene was really quite hysterical.

Once Peter had finally stopped laughing they continued down the passage, Sirius in the lead.

They wandered further down the corridor, taking a couple of rights and a few lefts and getting themselves completely and utterly lost. It didn’t help that it was getting darker by the minute.

“We should go back,” said Peter, his voice quivering slightly.

“Hey, anyone know that spell to light up your wand? I think I’ve found something.” exclaimed Sirius.

Of course, James _did_ know the spell, but it was too dark for him to sign and he was almost positive he wouldn’t be able to do it if he tried, so he didn’t do anything.

“What’s that?” said Remus, indicating a shadow with two lamplike eyes peering at them out of it, seemingly illuminated by nothing at all.

“Isn’t that the batty old caretaker’s cat?” said Peter, squinting at the large, unblinking eyes.

Sirius swore. “RUN!”

The four boys took off down the corridor, none of them daring to look back. Seeing as none of them knew where there were or where they were going, they’d only managed to get themselves more lost.

“Where in Godric Gryffindor’s good name are we?”

“’ _Where in Godric Gryffindor’s good name_ ’? Really, Sirius?” Remus shook his head.

“I thought it was good,” said Sirius, faux perplexed, “besides, I can’t’ve been the first person to use it.”

“Right. Let’s just focus on getting ourselves back. Preferably without being caught.”

“Honestly Remy,” said Sirius, rolling his eyes, “you really do take the fun out of everything.”

Eventually, they found their way back to the main corridor and somehow managed to sneak all the way back up to their dormitory without being caught. They collapsed onto their beds and fell asleep without even getting changed first (except for Remus, who was uncomfortable enough without trying to sleep in his uniform).

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hello. I finally updated. Yes, I am a selfish lazy asshole who does not deserve your support because its been like a month and a half since I last updated even though I’ve had this chapter most of the way written since the day after I last updated. I’m really sorry about that. Until next time!


	10. Chapter The Tenth

"THOSE BLOODY BASTARDS!" screamed a voice from the fifth year boys dormitory, waking up most of Gryffindor.

 

"Oh shuddup Gabian, they're bloody first years for Merlin's sake! They're too stupid to be able to think up something like this, let alone carry it out!"

 

"Who else woulda done it then, eh?"

 

"Anyone. What reason would those idiots have to try and get at us anyway?"

 

"I - I uh - You're still wrong!"

 

Two dorms down, Sirius' distinctly bark-like laugh rang around the room. He got up and pushed the still sleeping Peter off of his bed.

 

"Whassamatter?" Said Peter groggily, attempting to rub his head and stretch simultaneously.

 

"You bloody missed it, you lump!" Yelled Sirius, jumping onto Peter's bed, "besides, we've all been up for ages"

 

"If I missed it then why in Merlin's name did you wake me up?" mumbled Pete, attempting to climb back up into his bed, only to be blocked by Sirius, who was perched on top of it.

 

"Because I wanted to," said Sirius, as if that were a perfectly legitimate reason to wake someone up.

 

"Right. Thanks for that." Said Peter dryly.

 

"You're welcome!" Beamed Sirius, with all the cheerfulness of someone who was being commended for some incredibly brave and valiant act.

 

"Right," Peter grimaced, "very funny,"

 

"You're no fun." Sirius bounced off Pete's bed with almost puppy-like energy, "you appreciate me don't you, Jamie?"

 

James was sitting cross legged on his own bed, a sketchbook balanced on his knee and a quill between his fingers, ink already smeared on his hand from where it had dragged on the paper. He looked up at Sirius for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.

 

"What in hell is that supposed to mean?"

 

James shrugged again, much to Sirius' annoyance.

 

"What're you doing, anyway?"

 

James snapped the sketchbook shut. Sirius tried to snatch it out of his hands.

 

"Oh come on! It can't be that bad can it? Unless - No! You weren't doing homework were you?" He said the word as if he were afraid if it.

 

James rolled his eyes and shook his head, still not surrendering the book.

"If it's not homework then why won't you show it to me?" Said Sirius, in what he clearly considered to be a very logical manner.

 

Sirius gave a large tug and managed to wrest the book from James' grasp. He flipped it open to a page in the middle. A carefully drawn image of a beautiful castle shrouded in swirling mist and surrounded by a deep blue lake stared up at him from the page, the word 'Hogwarts?' was scrawled in a corner, in a messy handwriting that didn't quite match the careful inked lines of the drawing. A scribbled date in the corner of the page dated the drawing back to nearly a month earlier. He flipped through a couple more pages, each filled with drawing, some had large and painstakingly detailed drawings, some were filled with little doodles and others were somewhere in between.

 

"Why were you trying to hide this?" Said Sirius, baffled, "they're brilliant."

 

James hid his face in his hands, now flushed a brilliant red in his embarrassment. Sirius tossed the book back onto his bed.

 

"What are you so bloody embarrassed about? It's not like the pictures were private or anything. Honestly!"

 

He leaned forward and grabbed it, pulling it to himself before Sirius could snatch it back. James shook his head. The drawings _were_ private. In fact, besides himself, Sirius was the first person to see them. He didn't bring it up though, because then he'd have to explain, and he hadn't the first clue how. Besides, if he were to respond, he’d have to put the book down, and he didn’t particularly trust Sirius not to try and steal it again.

 

“You’re weird,” concluded Sirius. James rolled his eyes. He screwed the cap back on the ink bottle and wiped the remaining ink off his quill, putting it on his bedside table, next to the ink.

 

Remus chose that moment to emerge from the shower, his hair having become an untameable poof on top of his head.

 

“There’s no need to comment on my hair, Sirius. I know it looks stupid.” he said as Sirius attempted to stifle his laugh.

 

 _It’s really not that bad._ Signed James.

 

“Oh so he’ll talk to _you_ ,” Sirius complained.

 

_He didn’t steal my things._

 

“You weren’t responding before that!” 

 

 _You only tried to talk to me because you got bored with Pete._ James crossed his arms.

 

“Oh stop it, you idiots. Must you argue about everything?”

 

“We don’t-” 

 

“Yesterday you argued about whether or not Peter should put sugar on his cereal.” 

 

“That’s very important! What if he made the wrong decision?”

 

“He’d live.” 

 

“But what if he didn’t? It would be all our faults and we'd be messing with fate if he died. Who knows what could happen in the future without him there?!”

 

“Then by your logic – You know what, I’m not arguing this. Pete, shower’s free if you want it.”

 

“Nah. I’ll shower in the evening. I’m starved and if we don’t hurry we’ll have to go to class without breakfast.” 

 

“Fair enough. What’ve we got first?”

 

 _Transfigurations and Potions._ Signed James, but no one saw. He rolled his eyes as Sirius started pulling out an astounding amount of papers and random junk from his bag in search of a timetable.

 

“Got it!” exclaimed Sirius, shaking out the crumpled paper, “We’ve got Transfigurations and Potions!”

 

He stuffed the timetable back into his bag and closed it.

  


_Aren’t you going to pick those up?_ James indicated the papers now strewn across the dormitory floor.

 

“Nah.” 

 

Peter scrambled to find his uniform and pulled the blinds around his bed, mumbling something none of the others picked up.

  


James sincerely tried to ignore the papers, reminding himself that he really oughtn’t be picking up Sirius’ mess or he’d never learn to do it himself, but they just annoyed him too much.

 

He threw his legs off the side of the bed and got up slowly, setting about picking up Sirius’ schoolwork off the floor, carefully pressing out the creases and sorting them into classes, before putting them neatly into Sirius’ bag, where they would inevitably get all messed up again.

  


“I stand by what I said earlier: you’re bloody weird, mate.”

 

_Just because I’m not a pig doesn’t mean I’m weird._

  


“What are you now, my mother?”

 

_I get the feeling that that was supposed to be offensive somehow._

 

“It is. Being compared to my mother is never a good thing.”

 

“Stop bloody arguing!”

 

After about twenty more minutes they were finally ready. They made their way down to the Great Hall, Peter’s stomach rumbling audibly.

 

Sitting on the other side of the table sat Gideon and Fabian, their robes a motley of different colours. They were attempting to get the attention of a couple of pretty Hufflepuff girls.

 

"What do you think of my new robes? Hey! Cecile! Don't you just adore the colours?"

 

The girls giggled as they walked past, whispering amongst themselves.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes.

 

"Evans is coming in," whispered Remus, pointing at the door and feeling a little guilty as he watched her peek her face, which was entirely red in embarrassment, around the door to the Great Hall.

 

"Brilliant." Grinned Sirius, turning around to stare at the mortified girl as her friends dragged her into the hall, "what would you say, Jamesie? A prank well done?" He asked, attempting to drag James into the conversation.

 

James shrugged, pushing his egg around his plate with his fork.

 

"Fine. What about you, Petey?"

 

"It's fantastic!" Said Peter, attempting to mask the vague awe in his voice.

 

Far too soon for Sirius' liking, they had to move to their first class, Transfiguration.

 

"If you could please hold your groans until I have finished speaking, that would be appreciated," said Professor McGonagall, with the air of someone who had gone through this exact situation one too many times before, "now that you've learned the basics, you'll be doing a project in small groups. Each group will have a different spell to work on. You must prepare a demonstration of the spell, along with a presentation outlining what the spell is, how does it work, where did it originate, what are some common things that can go wrong in the casting of this spell and anything else you would like to add."

 

As McGonagall finished talking, Sirius slid himself closer to James, who looked a little uneasy.

 

"I don't think so, Mr Black." she said, eyeing the two boys suspiciously, "Potter, you can work with ... McKinnon and Fletcher. Black, with Maddock and Warren." she continued to split the rest of the class into groups of three, although Remus ended up in a group of only two people, partnered with a Gryffindor girl by the name of Hestia Jones.

 

"You lot are gonna have to come over here," said Marlene McKinnon loudly, putting her feet up on the table in front of her, "I'm not moving."

 

"You alright?" said Sirius quietly, as James packed up his things slowly. He nodded and swung his bag over his shoulder, making his way down to where Marlene was lounging.

 

He sat down nervously, and the two were soon joined by a tall Ravenclaw girl, who introduced herself as Carina Fletcher.

 

Professor McGonagall came around the room, allowing one person in each group to pick out a random spell from a glass bowl she had seemingly conjured from thin air (and she probably had). James ended up drawing for their group.

 

"What did we get?" asked McKinnon, as James unfolded the slip of paper.

 

The slip of parchment had the name of the spell at the top, and a list of books that might help with their research, and which might be found up at the library. James turned the parchment around so that they could see.

 

"Well I can't read it from here." said Fletcher snootily, "Read it aloud."

 

He flushed, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks and to his ears.

 

"What's your problem? Can't you read?"

 

James shook his head.

 

"So you _can't_ read?"

 

He shook his head again, frustrated.

 

"This is ridiculous! Just answer me. With _words_."

 

He put the slip of parchment down on the table. _I can't._

 

"What was that supposed to be?" Fletcher said, clearly annoyed.

 

James dug around in his pocket for a quill and a scrap of parchment. Fletcher put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

 

"Wait." said McKinnon, "you don't talk, do you?"

 

He shook his head in response, clearly flustered.

 

"I think Lily said something about you. She says you're just pretending that you can't talk."

 

He finally managed to find a quill. He ripped a bit of parchment off an essay he was working on for astronomy. **I wish I was lying.** He showed her the slip.

 

"So you can't talk then?" Fletcher sniggered, "you should have _said_ something!"

 

"Alright, lay off each other. I don't want to end up doing more of this assignment than I absolutely have to."

 

"Wait - if Potter can't talk does that mean he can't do any of the presentation?" Fletcher's eyes widened, "this is ridiculous!"

 

She stuck her hand up in the air, "Professor!"

 

Professor McGonagall made her way across the room to where they were sitting.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I refuse to work with someone like him." Fletcher insisted, "how are we supposed to collaborate when he _supposedly_ doesn't talk? How's he supposed to help with the presenting?"

 

James flushed again and stared down at his hands, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap.

 

McGonagall put up a hand to silence Sirius, who was sitting two rows down and had heard the entire exchange, before he even began to speak.

 

"That's enough, Miss Fletcher." she said evenly, "I have put you with Mr Potter, and you shall work with him. If you want to do well on this task, I would suggest you work out how to include him in your group discussions."

 

"But Professor, I can't work with a disabled person! You can't make me. I didn't come to this school to have to deal with his type!" Fletcher argued, "this is ridiculous! I'll tell my daddy that you're jeopardizing my grades if you force me to work with a bloody handicap!"

 

"I think you ought to learn not to judge someone by first impressions." said Professor McGonagall, struggling to keep her cool.

 

"First impressions?!" Fletcher shrieked, "I will not work with _him_! He's basically deformed! Just _look_ at him!"

 

"Miss Fletcher," McGonagall's voice was deathly calm, "you and I need to go and have a chat with Professor Dumbledore. The rest of you are dismissed."

 

Fletcher put up a fight, but McGonagall finally managed to get her to follow. James stuffed all his things messily into his bag and fled the room before anyone could try to talk to him.

 

He heard yells from behind him, telling him to wait up, but he ignored them and kept going, not really paying attention to where he was going in his haste to get away.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking for, but he could no longer hear the bustle of school life at all. He slid down the wall of the deserted corridor and buried his face in his hands.

 

It was a while before anything happened at all. A sigh of relief came from somewhere at the other end of the hall, and loud, running footsteps sounded, coming closer, the sound making James feel as if he were trapped, but he could not find it in himself to move.

 

James felt the air move next to him as a form slid down the wall to sit with him, their shoulder pressing against his.

 

The form squirmed, evidently not knowing what to say. He didn’t dare look up to see who it was.

 

“I’m so sorry, Jamie. I should have stopped her.” said a voice hesitantly.

 

James shrugged, staring blearily at his knees through the thick lenses of his glasses.

 

“Jamie. Look at me.” the voice tried again, sounding a little strained.

 

He didn’t acknowledge his friend, hoping that the latter would just give up and go away.

 

“You can’t just disappear for an hour and then ignore me when I finally find you, Jamie.” said Sirius, clearly at a loss for what to do, “I’m going to get Professor McGonagall. Please don’t run away again. I’ll be right back.”

 

James watched Sirius’ feet retreat out of the corridor. Once the other boy was out of hearing range, he stood up slowly and headed in the opposite direction.

 

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t even notice where he was going until he ran right into a much larger figure.

 

“Look what we have here,” remarked the boy he had run into, “a pipsqueak firstie who doesn’t know his place. And a Gryffindor too – I can’t say I’m surprised.”

 

The boy (who appeared to be about the size of a small house) lifted James up by the scruff of his neck.

 

“What’ve you got to say for yourself, pipsqueak?” he said, spitting in James’ face.

 

James shook his head.

 

“Nothing? Well, I think we ought to teach you a lesson, eh, Pipsqueak?”

 

James shook his head vigorously, looking mortified.

 

By the time the gang of older boys had finished with him, he was covered bruises and bleeding out of what seemed to be every crevice in his body. He’d broken at least a couple of bones and was struggling to move, feeling incredibly light headed.

 

**

 

Sirius swore as he entered the corridor where James had been.

 

“He was right here, Professor, I swear.” he said, looking back at Professor McGonagall, “he probably went that way, though.”

 

McGonagall nodded, her brow furrowed.

 

They followed the route Sirius decided James was most likely to take.

 

A couple of sixth year boys came out of a corridor, slamming the door behind them, laughing and looking incredibly pleased with themselves. When they spotted Professor McGonagall, however, they were quick to vacate the scene.

 

Sirius had a bad feeling about what those boys had been doing, besides, he could smell something odd in the air. He quickened the pace and dragged open the doors the boys had just gone through.

 

“James!” he gasped, sprinting across the hall and dropping to his knees next to his friend, “Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

 

James lifted his hands in an attempt to reply, but they quickly dropped back down to his side.

 

“Mr Potter! What happened to you?” said Professor McGonagall, dropping next to Sirius, “Can you carry him, Black?”

 

Sirius nodded wordlessly and slipped his arms under his friend, lifting him slowly. James, being taller than him, was a bit heavier than Sirius was really able to carry, but he ignored the pain in his arms and hastened to follow McGonagall out of the corridor.

 

When they made it to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey had Sirius put James down on a nearby hospital bed and ushered him out of the wing, along with Professor McGonagall.

 

McGonagall used her wand to clear the blood off of Sirius’ robes, “I think you ought to go and tell your other friends what’s happened, Black,” she said tersely, “I’ve got to have a word with those boys.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> I’m so so so sorry it’s taken this long to update. I have a whole list of excuses as to why I haven’t updated in MONTHS, but I’ll spare you the details. Again, thank you to all those who have commented, you are what motivates me to keep writing, even if it does take me a while to update. I’m hoping to update several times in the next week or so, but with my luck, I’ll be forced to clean all holidays (the Autumn holidays start next week!) and won’t have the time. Thanks again!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Peter and Remus were in the Common Room, sitting on two squishy armchairs near the fire when Sirius burst in, breathing heavily.

 

Remus stood up, "what's wrong? Did you find him?"

 

Sirius nodded wordlessly, struggling to regain his breath.

 

"Then where is he?" asked Pete, standing on his toes to look past Sirius.

 

"Hospital Wing," whispered Sirius, his eyes wide, "he's in the Hospital Wing."

 

"Why? Is he alright? What happened?"

 

"Attacked. I don't know. I found him but he wouldn't talk to me so I went to find McGonagall but while I wasn't there he wandered off and -" Sirius didn't want to go on, but they got the idea.

 

"What're we waiting for then? Let's go!"

 

The three boys set off to the Hospital Wing, one feeling quite subdued.

 

"Unless one of you is ill, I'll have to request you three leave," called Madam Pomfrey from the other side of the wing, not even turning to look at them.

 

"But ma'am-"

 

"Mr Potter is in no fit state to see you. Come back in an hour or so - at least he ought to be stable by then," she muttered the last part to herself.

 

"Wait - he's not-"

 

"Ah, Black. I've been looking for you," said a voice from behind them, making them jump, "I was requested to escort you to Professor Dumbledore's office"

 

Professor Poranji grinned at Sirius as he turned around slowly, worry showing on his face.

 

Poranji grabbed Sirius' arm, "cheerio, boys!" she said, dragging Sirius down the hallway with her.

 

"What is it?" cried Sirius, attempting to ignore the pain from Poranji's death grip on his upper arm, "can't it wait?"

 

"I'm not to tell you what it is, but no, it cannot wait," Sirius' stomach lurched as he realized what it must be. He crossed the fingers on his free arm and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, hoping desperately that he was wrong.

 

As his luck had it, he was completely correct. Bugger.

 

If his situation had been different, he would have been fascinated by all of the funny objects in Professor Dumbledore's office (he also would have been rather inclined to see how much of it he could nick without being caught). Despite his current disinterest in most anything, he walked slowly, pretending to be entranced by the delicately intricate objects on their spindly-legged tables in an attempt to prolong the time until he met his fate.

 

"Hurry up, boy! I haven't got all day!" Poranji hissed. Sirius quickened his pace, suddenly eager to get it over with. The large door to Dumbledore's study was ajar. Sirius peeked his head around the door, only now noticing the raised voices belonging to his enraged parents.

 

"What do you _mean_ he can't be transferred to Slytherin?" his mother seethed, "that's where the boy belongs!"

 

"The Sorting Hat clearly thought otherwise - ah! There you are! Come in, come in!" Dumbledore welcomed, beckoning Sirius in with a large, genuine smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

 

Sirius saw no way to get out of it now that he'd been spotted. He took a deep breath and made his way into the study, stopping as far from his parents as he could.

 

"Please sir," he addressed, attempting to keep the shake from his voice, "not to be rude, but this is a really bad time. My friend -"

 

"Ah, yes. I have been informed of Mr Potter's unfortunate condition."

 

"You - you have?" said Sirius, dumbfounded, at almost the same time his mother shrieked;

 

"POTTER?! MY SON IS FRIENDS WITH A POTTER?! YOU SEE WHY HE NEEDS TO BE TRANSFERRED IMMEDIATELY, PROFESSOR! MY SON CANNOT BE INFLUENCED BY A POTTER!"

 

"As I am aware," Dumbledore replied levelly, "James Potter is quite a bright and charismatic boy. I don't believe your son to be in any danger as far as influence is concerned."

 

"I don't care how bloody charismatic the thing is - I don't want _my_ son anywhere near a Potter!" Mr Black yelled, "I demand you transfer him!"

 

"I'll request you be civil in my office, please," said Professor Dumbledore, "if the boy consents, I can have him resorted by the hat, but I cannot simply put him in the house his parents want him to be in."

 

Mrs Black whirled on her son, "well boy? Are you going to do this ridiculous 'resorting'?"

 

It wasn't really a question.

 

"I - I suppose so," he said jerkily, put off by the sudden attention that had been cast on him. He didn't feel very brave.

 

"Very well," Dumbledore stood up and crossed the room, pulling a very tattered brown hat from one of the higher shelves. Mrs Black snatched it out of his hands and shoved it on her son's head.

 

'I already know where I'm going to put you, but for your own sake, pretend you're arguing with me,' said the small voice in Sirius' ear.

 

'What?'

 

'Pretend that you're arguing against me and trying to get into Slytherin,' insisted the hat, 'it'll placate those snakes.'

 

Finally, Sirius understood, and he began yo mutter to himself quietly, attempting to sound as if he were arguing with someone.

 

"I'll have none of it!" exclaimed the hat at last, "GRYFFINDOR!"

 

Sirius attempted to mask his sigh of relief as he lifted the hat off of his head and handed it carefully back to Professor Dumbledore.

 

Before Sirius could work out what was going on, Mrs Black had reached out and slapped him hard across the face. Sirius doubled over, his hands flying up to cover his stinging cheek.

 

"WEAK!" screeched Mrs Black, but before she could do anything more, Dumbledore stepped deftly in between her and her son.

 

"I will not permit this treatment of my students," he bristled, "I will have to request that the both of you leave the premises."

 

"I WILL TREAT MY SON HOWEVER I PLEASE AND YOU'LL KEEP YOUR ABNORMALLY LONG NOSE OUT OF IT!" she bellowed.

 

She made an attempt to get past Professor Dumbledore, her husband mimicking her actions from the other side.

 

"I believe," said Dumbledore, fending them both off with ease, "that this meeting has come to an end. I don't know about you, but I myself am quite busy, and would like to return to my work. If you could presently escort yourselves form the grounds, I would be quite appreciative. You must come again sometime when I'm not quite so busy. It's been fantastic to have you!"

 

Sirius was amazed at how calm and pleasant Dumbledore sounded, standing in the presence of two wizards (or rather, a wizard and a witch), who were clearly out for his blood.

 

"NO!" yelled Mr Black, "MY SON WILL BE IN SLYTHERIN!"

 

"I'm afraid that's not up to you to decide. The hat has made its decision - twice, I might add. The boy must remain in Gryffindor."

 

“We’d like to have a chat with the boy. Privately.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I cannot permit you to have a moment with your son,” said Dumbledore, smiling slightly, “otherwise I’d have to allow every parent to have a moment with their children, and I imagine that that might end up becoming a little chaotic. You’ll have to wait until the holdiays.”

 

Mrs Black humphed loudly, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

 

She grabbed her husband around the arm and dragged him out of the office, muttering under her breath. Sirius waited until he could no longer hear the footsteps and moved to leave himself.

 

“Mr Black, a word if you please.”

 

Sirius turned around, startled. He’d almost forgotten that there was another person in the room. Dumbledore smiled at him warmly and indicated a seat across from his.

 

“Don’t worry,” he said genially, “you’re not in any trouble.”

 

Sirius perched himself on the edge of the seat, so that he could make a quick getaway if needed.

 

“Sir, I really need to -”

 

“I understand your eagerness to return to your friend, but I’ll have to ask you to wait a little longer,” Dumbledore sat down swiftly, “would you like a cup of tea? Coffee perhaps?”

 

“N-no, sir,” stammered Sirius, taken aback.

 

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

 

“About what?”

 

“Anything at all, my boy. Anything at all,” he surveyed Sirius quietly over the rim of his glasses.

 

“No, sir. Why would there be?”

 

Dumbledore looked at him intently, “Are you certain?”

 

“Very,” said Sirius uncomfortably, twisting his fingers in his lap.

 

“Very well then, you may go.”

 

“Thank you, Professor.” he said quietly, standing up and making his way out of the office and down the spiralling staircase as quickly as he could. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he stopped, listening intently for the way that his parents had gone.

 

Not hearing anything, he headed off back the way he came, hoping that he could find his way back to the Hospital Wing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Well hello there! I haven’t seen you lot in a while (which is a bit of a shame), but here’s the long-awaited chapter eleven (long awaited by the like three people who actually read my stories lmao. I can’t promise a date for the next chapter, but your support is what helps it to get written (however long it ends up taking). We’ll just have to see. Thanks to anyone who’s stuck around long enough to actually see this chapter.


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